


means to a mend

by icepools



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Jealousy, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Mutual Pining, mileven is only mentioned but lesbian rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icepools/pseuds/icepools
Summary: The first thing Will says, after (thankfully) a greeting, is, “Would you say you’re a good kisser?”Which, naturally, throws Lucas for a bit of a loop.or: will doesn’t know how to kiss. lucas, apparently, does.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Lucas Sinclair
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	means to a mend

Lucas can tell, the second Will knocks on his window at one in the morning, that something is wrong.

He’s not _entirely_ incorrect.

The first thing Will says, after (thankfully) a greeting, is, “Would you say you’re a good kisser?”

Which, naturally, throws Lucas for a bit of a loop.

“Fucking _what?_ ” he breathes out through a laugh. Will’s shoulders visibly tense, so Lucas tries to hold it in. “Sorry. You’re serious? Sit down,”

Will does, shrugging off the jacket that is definitely not enough for how chilly the air is this time of year. Whatever he wants ( _a kiss?_ ), it seems he really needs it.

(And if it’s a kiss? Lucas will probably die before he gets the chance to even do it.)

“So,” Will starts, leaning back against Lucas’ pillows. Lucas sits cross-legged across from him, near the edge of his bed.

“So?”

Will squeezes his eyes shut, opens them, and starts to explain whatever the fuck this is. “Basically. I have a date tomorrow.”

Lucas doesn’t hear the next couple sentences due to the ringing in his ears.

Will Byers. Date. With someone that is _not_ Lucas Sinclair.

“Hello?”

“What?”

When Lucas stops staring at a loose thread on his blanket and turns his gaze towards Will, he’s looking at him. Like he wants something. 

“I asked you a question,” Will says, far too softly to be allowed.

“Sorry,” Lucas looks away again, sighing. “Ask me again? And, um, repeat the stuff before it, too.”

Will’s expression is confused, but he complies nonetheless. “I, um, have a date tomorrow. With a boy from my art class. And I—okay, well, I don’t _know_ if he’s gonna kiss me but that’s kind of the goal and I’ve never done... _that._ So I need help. And you know, uh, Dustin is away this weekend and obviously I can’t ask the others, cause, girls. So would you help? Please.”

The _please_ seems to be added as a final, desperate attempt to get Lucas on board with the plan. Luckily for Will, Lucas was on board ages ago.

But, then, Lucas is probably going to have to kiss Will. Something he wants very much, yes, but once Will knows how to do it then he _won’t_ be kissing Lucas anymore.

The question is, can he handle it?

He cannot, but Will is looking at him with so much hope and fear that Lucas can’t very well deny the request.

“Okay. Yeah,”

Will’s face lights up. “Really?”

Lucas holds his breath, “Yeah. Of course.”

A grin spreads across Will’s face, and he shuffles down the bed so he’s closer to Lucas. 

No going back now.

“So you’ve— _never_ kissed anyone, right?” Probably a bad start to whatever this is, but Lucas wants to make sure. Or something. Really, he just can’t believe no one’s kissed Will yet. That seems unfair.

Will sighs loudly, “No, Lucas, I haven’t. I know, what kind of high school junior hasn’t had his first kiss yet?” He pauses, bites the inside of his cheek, then says, “You can—you can laugh, if you want.”

Lucas does not laugh. Instead, he smiles and scoots closer to Will. They’re a couple inches apart. If he moves his legs in the right way, their knees could probably touch.

“Not laughing at you. It’s okay. I only had mine a couple years ago.” This reassurance that he’s not that far behind seems to ease Will, just a little. The tiny little smile he gives Lucas says as much.

They’re silent for a couple minutes. Lucas doesn’t know how one is meant to teach someone to kiss. No one taught him. Then again, his first kiss wasn’t _great._ Will deserves a fair shot at a boyfriend. Or something like that.

“Well? You just gonna sit there or are you actually gonna help?” Will asks through a chuckle. _Shit._ Had he been thinking for that long?

“Yep. Sorry. So, um,” Lucas hasn’t ever actually kissed a _boy._ Surely it’s the same as kissing a girl? “ _You’re_ kissing _him,_ right?” Will merely nods at the question. “So, then.”

Lucas brings his body all the way into Will’s space. His breath seems to hitch at the contact of their legs. When Lucas looks down, he sees that Will’s hands are shaking.

“Nothing to be nervous about, Byers. Just me. And I’m not gonna judge you if you suck, right?” Lucas says with a light laugh in an attempt to ease his nerves. Will laughs with him.

“ _Very_ nice to know you think I could suck.”

“Hey, I don’t know! You don’t either, so—you can’t talk,” Lucas says simply. Will doesn’t argue; he has a point. “So, er, I’d do it near the end. Don’t wanna scare him off right off the bat, right?”

“Yeah. Duh.”

Lucas smiles. They’re joking around, that’s good. This is probably a little overwhelming for Will. It’s a miracle he even asked for help in the first place. He never likes to.

(There’s a voice screaming at Lucas in the back of his head that _he asked Lucas so he trusts Lucas to not laugh at him and actually help him_ but he decides to worry about that later.)

“Usually he’ll figure out what you’re trying to do if you, you know, put your hands on him.” Lucas hasn’t ever had to explain how to kiss before, and it’s proving to be more difficult than he thought.

Will is nodding, but he looks a little confused at the hand thing. “How do I...know where to put them?”

Lucas hums. He moves his hands forward and hovers them above Will’s. “Can I?” he asks. Will nods, and Lucas puts his hands on top of Will’s. They’re soft. “So…you can, um, feel it out. Is he tall?”

“Not much taller than you.”

That makes Lucas’ face go hotter than he’d like to admit.

“Okay, so. Some people like them here,” He gently places Will’s hands on his shoulders, “Here,” Will’s hands are moved onto Lucas’ chest, “Or _here._ ” Lucas takes Will’s hands and places them on his cheeks. He doesn’t mean to shiver like he does, but, really, how can you blame him? Having your crush’s hands on your face is a little _much._

“I think,” Lucas takes his hands off of Will’s and allows him to move them himself. They settle on his shoulders. “I like them here.”

Lucas’ next breaths are shaky ( _he’s barely touching you, Sinclair, get it together!_ ), but he manages to force out a small, “Okay.”

“Um—then what?” Will asks. His hands are hot on Lucas’ shoulders and his eyes are very much on him.

“Well, assuming he’s into it,” That earns a little laugh (a giggle, more like) from Will, so Lucas calls it a success. “You just go for it.”

Lucas debates offering to kiss Will first, so he knows how it works. He does not get the chance to, as Will leans in and kisses him quick. Their lips barely even touch.

That doesn’t stop Lucas’ heart from beating out of his fucking chest when Will pulls away not a second later.

Will’s cheeks are flushed red. He bites his bottom lip (which does _not_ help the situation at all), then whispers, “Like that?” 

Lucas’ brain is fried. He forgets how to speak. Hell, he forgets how to breathe. Will lets out a tiny little sigh that brings him back to reality. 

“ _Yep,_ ” he says. His voice cracks. He clears his throat and chokes out a, “Yes, that’s good.”

The praise makes Will’s eyes light up and a smile appears on his face. Lucas takes a deep breath, and, against his better judgement, speaks again.

“How about you, um, do it again with your hands on my cheeks? Just to see if you—if you like it better that way.”

Now Lucas is being selfish. What Will did the first time was fucking perfect. He just wants to have Will kiss him one more time before he runs off with an art class boy and they start dating and then Will starts _bringing him_ to things—

Will’s silent response to the offer is his hands gently cupping Lucas’ face. He tilts his head ( _Like this?_ ) and when Lucas nods he leans forward and kisses him gently and quickly, just like before. 

Lucas can’t speak for a minute, _just like before._

Will seems happy about it, though. So Lucas is happy about it. Even if when he leaves his heart will break and he’ll probably cry a little. 

“Was that better?” Lucas chokes out. Will purses his lips, thinking over the question.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shrugging, “Maybe.”

That’s enough for Lucas (at least he _did it_ ), so he smiles at Will with reassurance. He smiles back.

“So you think I’ll be okay?” Will asks softly, too soft once again. Lucas clears his throat before answering the question that feels more loaded than it is. 

“More than.”

Lucas assumes Will is going to leave, but then he’s taking off his hoodie and asking Lucas if he has any spare pyjamas he can wear.

How Lucas is supposed to sleep in the same bed as Will after he’s kissed him, _twice,_ is beyond him.

“When’s your date again?” Lucas asks, quietly, once they’ve both settled under the covers. They’re facing each other. He could kiss him right now.

“Tomorrow,”

He doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” 

“Think we’re seeing a movie. Might go to the diner, too, I don’t know. He asked me. So.”

Lucas hesitates, debating whether or not he should ask his final question. It seems—unnecessary, but he wants to know. For personal reasons.

“Is he nice?”

Will laughs at this, curling into himself a little. “Yeah. Really nice,”

“Is he,” Lucas pauses, mostly for effect, “cute?”

Will doesn’t answer right away. He bites his lip and casts his gaze downward, thinking over the question.

“Yeah,” he says at last. He’s quiet. “Cute.”

Lucas decides to ignore the hesitation. “Cool,” he mumbles, “That’s good. Hope it, uh, works out. Night, Will.”

“Night.”

Lucas does not go to sleep.

* * *

“Will! Hey, Will, calm down,”

Will whips his head around to look at Lucas. His face is red. “I can’t _calm down,_ Lucas! I can’t—what if he doesn’t like me? Or what if, um, when I try to kiss him he gets grossed out? Holy _fuck,_ what if this is just a friend thing—”

Lucas stands from his spot on his bed to put his hands on Will’s shoulders. It feels too intimate. He lets his arms fall to his sides.

“Look at me, Will. You’ve got this. You’re the total package!” That sounds a little too—something. Lucas clears his throat, “You’re a good kisser and you’re super fucking cool. If he doesn’t wanna kiss you, or whatever, then it’s his loss. In?”

Lucas breathes in deeply, and _thank god_ Will does it with him. They exhale together, and repeat the process until Will’s breathing normally. And smiling. Which is a very nice bonus.

“You’ve got this in the fucking _bag,_ okay?” says Lucas, and it makes Will laugh, albeit a little wetly. It’s enough for Lucas. “Now get out of here! You need a shower.”

Will’s grinning when he pulls his jacket on (it’s not very cold anymore, but Will does prefer to be warm, especially in recent years) and he’s grinning when he pulls Lucas into a hug. They hug all the time, it’s nothing new, but somehow it’s a little different after they’ve kissed twice.

“Thank you, Lucas. Sorry. I know last night was probably—weird. For you. But, um, I think it’ll pay off. Yeah. Bye.”

Will awkwardly separates himself from Lucas, then opens up his window. He looks back at him, smiles again, then climbs through.

Once Lucas is sure Will is safely on his way home to get ready for his fucking date, he closes his window, flops face-first onto his bed, and holds back the tears that threaten to fall.

Pathetic.

* * *

Lucas has never had a depressive episode. Hell, he doesn’t even have depression. But he’s pretty sure it feels like this.

His mom’s come for him, and he _has_ come downstairs. He had lunch with his family then went right back up. 

He’s _sad._ He doesn’t have the right to be, really; Will is his own person who is allowed to date whoever he wants.

It would just be nice if that person was Lucas. 

He’s never—felt like this before. Maybe back in eighth grade with Dustin and Max, but Lucas was very confused in eighth grade. He’d rather not talk about it. 

The only way he can really describe whatever the fuck he’s feeling is _jealous._ He’s jealous of the boy in Will’s art class who had the courage to ask him out before Lucas. 

It’s not like they’re getting _married_ or anything, they can’t even do that. So what’s Lucas so sad for?

He’s moving around after dinner when he finally decides that he needs to get out of this house. Normally he’d go to Will’s but— _busy._

Dustin’s not here, either. Max and El have their weird best friend sleepover on Saturdays, so they’re a no-go. Which means—

_Mike._

As Lucas gets his bike out of the garage to ride over, he considers how this might... _benefit_ him. Mike’s in a relationship, has been for almost a year. Surely she knows what the fuck Lucas should do?

At least, that’s the goal.

The bike ride to Mike’s is usually pretty quiet. Especially in the evening, when everyone else is sat for dinner. It’s peaceful.

(Usually it’s nice to have Will to talk to, but again—busy.)

Lucas hasn’t _told_ Mike he’s coming over, so he’s not surprised that when he bursts through the basement door she screams like he’s a fucking _murderer._

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lucas! If you were trying to give me a heart attack I think you nailed it!” she forces out, heaving on couch. Lucas shrugs as he yanks his jacket off.

“Sorry. Need your advice,” he sighs. Mike frowns at him. It dissolves into a loud laugh.

“So you came to _me?_ ”

“I’m not happy with it either! Believe me.” Lucas seats himself to Mike and takes in their surroundings.

She seems to have been writing when he came in. When he looks at her notebook, open on the table, he can read something about a monster with a face that opens up.

“You’re writing about the Demogorgon?” he asks, looking from the writing to her. She nods simply.

“Thought it could be cool. Don’t think I’ll do anything with it, but it might be good for a short story in my English class or something,” she shrugs. She glances over at the book, then back at Lucas again. “What sort of _advice_ do you need?”

Lucas goes silent. Truth be told he doesn’t really know what to _ask_ for. Maybe if he just says _something_ it’ll get him going.

“Okay, so, Will had a date today and he basically asked me to teach him how to kiss, which, _wow._ And he’s a really good kisser but now he’s off with some boy and they’re probably kissing right now, and it kinda sucks ‘cause _I_ wanna kiss him and it makes me feel sick and I don’t know what to _do._ ”

Well—

It was something, at least.

Mike doesn’t say anything for a moment. She blinks at him, eyebrows raised high and mouth slightly agape.

Finally, she speaks. It’s not quite what Lucas was hoping for, but—

“ _Wow._ Okay. Wow.”

Lucas bites his lip and looks at her nervously. He’s pretty sure she knows he _likes_ (it’s probably more, but that’s an issue for another day) Will, so hopefully there’s no judgement there. 

Then again, he did just say that he literally taught him how to kiss.

Mike presses her lips together, squeezes an eye shut, _sighs,_ then finally looks at Lucas again.

“So you’re...jealous?” she asks, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

Lucas groans and sinks back into the couch cushions, “I’ve been trying to avoid— _that_ word, but it seems that way, yeah.”

Mike looks at him for a while. Just—looks. She narrows her eyes for a split second, then huffs out a breath. She reaches forward slightly and puts a hand on Lucas’ arm, stroking it gently with her thumb.

“Can I tell you about something?” she asks gently. Lucas looks at her, brows furrowed, then shrugs. 

“Sure,” he mumbles, “Long as it gets my mind off this shit.”

Mike gives him a pitiful look. She’s still stroking his arm. It’s nice.

“In…tenth grade, I liked El. You know that. Hell, everyone does,” Mike breathes out a laugh, and Lucas does, too. Her massive crush that was and is probably love is fairly well known, _especially_ by El herself.

“But I, uh, I liked her in ninth, too. Near the end.”

Now _that_ is new information. Lucas tries to sit up but Mike’s hand on his arm stops him. Instead, he settles back into the couch and listens to her story.

“She liked a girl. One from her gym class, I think. I don’t even know. But you remember that little period where El wasn’t around as much?”

“Yeah. You were really—oh.”

“Yeah, _oh,_ ” Mike laughs again. Clearly this isn’t a touchy subject for her, that’s nice. “So, basically, someone,” she gestures to herself with her free hand, “was a bit jealous. Only a bit. I only cried every night and thought about kicking the girl’s shins every time I saw her.”

The admission sends Lucas into a fit of giggles he tries to keep in. He is unsuccessful. He laughs and laughs and eventually Mike laughs with him.

“And you didn’t?” he asks. She snorts.

“No way! Really wanted to, though. You know what I did instead?” 

Lucas sits up a bit. This is it, _this_ is what he has to do with Will. “What?”

Mike leans forward, pauses, grins, then says simply, “I _talked_ to El.”

Oh. Lucas’ shoulders slump. That’s it?

Mike seems to pick up on his disappointment, because she pats his arm firmly. With her other hand, she tilts his chin up slightly, so that they’re making eye contact.

“Hey,” she whispers, “I’m serious. _Talk_ to him. Tomorrow, next week, whenever. Just talk to him. See what happens! In _my_ case I got a girlfriend and we’ve been going for like, a year. So maybe you’ll get a boyfriend.”

Lucas snorts at that, “As if. He doesn’t even like me,”

Mike’s eyebrows raise at that. “No?” 

Lucas blinks at her. What the fuck does she mean _no?_ Obviously fucking not, Will’s going on a date with some other boy. So he can’t like Lucas.

When Lucas voices as much to Mike, she laughs. _Hard._ She giggles and snorts a couple times and Lucas thinks he sees a tear fall down her cheek.

“What the fuck is so funny about that?” he asks with a frown. Mike gives him this _look,_ in between teasing and pity.

“Lucas, did you not listen to a _word_ of what I just said?” 

“Uh, _yeah,_ I did. Heard the whole thing. Heard the shins thing and heard you brag about your fucking _girlfriend._ I’m all caught up.” Lucas groans a little, causing Mike to roll her eyes. 

“Exactly. You didn’t _listen._ I just answered every question you want answered and all you got was that I have a girlfriend which, news flash! _You know that!_ ” 

Lucas frowns at her. She grins at him. 

“You’re very mean,” he mumbles. 

“You’re very stupid.” she shoots back almost immediately.

“I love you,”

“Love you too, stupid. You wanna stick around? I’ve got some tapes I wanna watch. Or you wanna go out and find Will and his boy? Could kick his shins. It might help.” Mike offers with a grin. Lucas snorts at her and her attempts to make light of a not-very-nice situation. They seem to be working. 

“No thanks. I’d really like to kick him, but I _feel_ like that would kind of ruin any chance I don’t have with Will.”

“Idiot,” Mike says flatly. “You going?”

Lucas nods. Mike smiles. 

They stand up together, Mike waiting for Lucas to put on his jacket. When he does, she puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re fine. Got it? _Fine._ Talk to him or don’t. Either way, _please_ don’t just sulk all day tomorrow and show up to school on Monday all mopey. For my sake. And Will’s, I think.”

Lucas is confused by that, he tries to tell Mike, but she shakes her head and ushers him up the stairs. 

“Good luck, idiot.” Is the last thing she says to him before he’s up the stairs and leaving the house.

Mike is home alone, Lucas notes. He didn’t notice coming _in_ because he was a man on a mission. But he sees the empty house and debates going back downstairs to join her. He remembers her open notebook and decides that maybe she’s best left alone.

Maybe Lucas is, too. Tonight.

* * *

Lucas’ plans of being left alone for tonight are very harshly interrupted at eleven o’clock by a loud banging on his window.

After he recovers from the fucking heart attack it gives him, he looks at the window to—oh.

It’s Will. He’s wearing his jacket from last night, but he’s changed into a different t-shirt. He looks good. 

Except, maybe, for the fact that he looks like he’s been crying.

Lucas sits up immediately, stumbling over a pair of shoes he left on the ground. He practically falls onto the window sill, pulling it up as quickly as he can.

Will stands motionless for a moment, breathing heavy and mouth stuck in a frown. His bottom lip trembles for a second before he chokes out a sob that he was trying to hold in.

“ _Shit._ ” Is all Lucas says before he pulls Will into his room, then wraps him up in his arms tightly. Will’s face instinctively goes to his shoulder, the few sobs he lets out muffled by his face in the fabric of Lucas’ t-shirt.

Lucas doesn’t hold him too tightly, he knows Will likes his hugs loose. This doesn’t—feel like a normal hug. It’s _not._ Will isn’t usually sobbing into Lucas’ neck when they hug.

It’s so fucking selfish and Lucas beats himself up the moment the thought crosses his mind, but he feels a strange sense of pride in holding Will when he’s so vulnerable, so broken.

_Why is he broken?_

“Will?” Lucas whispers as softly as he can, “What happened?”

Will lets out a muffled whine, then mumbles, “Date. Very bad fucking date.”

Lucas holds him a little tighter.

“In?” he offers, breathing in as loudly as he can through his nose. Will sighs into his shoulder, then takes a shaky breath in. Lucas smiles against his hair and breaths out, Will following the action. In. Out. Repeat. 

It’s repeated for what feels like forever when Will nods slightly. “Okay.” he whispers. Lucas squeezes him once more before letting go.

Will is fucking gorgeous.

His cheeks are red and tear-stained, eyelashes wet, lips turned downwards in an almost frown that’s easing a little.

Lucas breathes out a soft _wow._ Will either doesn’t hear it or doesn’t comment on it.

“So…” Lucas starts. He leads Will over to his bed where they sit down next to each other, leaning back into the massive pile of pillows near the headboard. Will leans his weight on Lucas the slightest bit. “What, uh, what happened?”

Will groans, curling into himself and a little into Lucas. He hopes he can’t hear his heartbeat from his position. “So many things,”

“Like?”

Will is frowning again. Taking some more advice from Mike (he makes a note to thank her later, even if they don’t work out), Lucas moves his arm slightly and puts a hand on Will’s arm, stroking it with his thumb. 

“He didn’t want to kiss me,” Will starts. His voice is wavering, so Lucas squeezes his arm. “I went to, um, you know, and he leaned back and started talking about the fucking movie we watched.”

“Oh, Will—”

“ _And_ he wasn’t actually that nice. I wanted popcorn, he didn’t, and instead of just getting it he said I could pay for it myself.” 

Lucas’ face burns. Fucking burns. When Will leaves, he is absolutely going to kick this fucker in the shins.

He sits up suddenly, startling Will, who blinks at him. “Fuck him!” Lucas says, “He sounds like a piece of shit. He didn’t deserve a kiss from you.”

Both Lucas and Will decide to ignore how weird _that_ sounded, and instead of commenting Will giggles wetly, grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “Fuck him.”

The silence that follows the declaration of _fuck art class boy!_ is both nothing and everything. They’re content to sit here quietly, but also Lucas is _not_ content to sit here quietly. He wants to talk to Will and figure out his feelings and kiss him a lot.

Will clearly doesn’t like the boy he went on a date with. Lucas isn’t sure if he ever did. But that doesn’t mean he likes Lucas.

He opens his mouth, maybe to say something, or maybe to just breathe, but Will doesn’t allow him either.

“Thank you, by the way,”

“For?” Lucas presses. He truly, genuinely, does not know.

“Everything?” Will laughs, “Teaching me how to kiss, even if I didn’t use it, getting me calmed down before I left, getting me calmed down _now._ I know it’s probably annoying,”

Will cringes when the word _annoying_ slips out, like he didn’t want to expose that part of his feelings to Lucas. He tries to go back on it, pretend it never happened, but Lucas stops him.

“You, Will Byers, are _not_ annoying. Nothing you ever do could annoy me. I will calm you down before every good date and after every bad one,” Lucas inches to the left, so he’s looking at Will head-on. It’s reminiscent of their position when Lucas was giving him— _lessons._

Speaking of kissing lessons, apparently—

“And if you need me to help you make sure you can still kiss before them? Then, shit, I’ll do that too.”

_What the fuck was that? Just tell him you’re in love—_

Oh.

Will is quiet when Lucas finishes talking and for a second he’s worried he let the apparent fact that he’s in love and _he loves Will Byers_ slip, but then Will speaks again.

“When I, um,” Words seem to fail him in this moment, and normally Lucas would be able to supply him with the ones he needs, but today he has no fucking clue. “When I kissed you—the first time—you got...weird. Like you broke for a minute. You did it after the second one, too, but you were just...I don’t know.”

Apparently Lucas isn’t as subtle as he thought he was. And he didn’t even think he was very subtle.

“ _Well,_ ” His fucking voice cracks again. He clears his throat and prays Will didn’t notice his octave change; one slip-up could fuck him over forever.

“The way you, uh, you know…” Every word in his vocabulary escapes him and he can’t speak. 

Will blinks at him for a moment before offering a, “Kissed?” 

Lucas forces out a laugh and nods, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Yep, yeah, that’s the word. It was just—good, you know? That’s the kind of kiss that’s supposed to fry someone’s brain for a little bit. Which is good! Doesn’t sound good, but—”

Lucas should stop talking. He’s probably already given himself away by how flustered he’s gotten from the simple question. But he _doesn’t_ stop. He keeps going, keeps digging himself into a hole he’s already stuck in.

And Will just watches him dig, arms folded across his stomach and expression blank. It’s fucking terrifying. He’s just _staring_ at Lucas as he fucks himself over for life.

Somewhere in between talking about fried brains and kissing boys (and how he’d never done that so it was a new feeling which is _why_ he malfunctioned when it happened), Lucas lets it slip that Will’s hands are soft. And warm. 

A light bulb seems to go off in Will’s brain at the admission. Lucas goes silent, the whole room does. The only sound is his blankets being moved as Will inches his body forwards. Their knees are touching again.

Their knees brushing each other is the _least_ of Lucas’ concern when Will’s hands reach out and cup his cheeks delicately. Like if he held on any tighter Lucas would break. He might. It sure fucking feels like he will.

“Yeah?” Will asks, and somehow Lucas understands every question hidden in the simple one.

_Is this what you want? Is this why you freaked? Is this why you decided to help? Are we on the same page? Do you want me to kiss you?_

Lucas swallows hard. His breath leaves his body as he whispers back, “Yeah.”

That’s all Will needs. _Clearly,_ because he leans forward and presses his lips to Lucas’ gently, so fucking gently.

This isn’t a practice kiss; it doesn’t even compare. _This_ is their first kiss. This is Will and this is Lucas, real and true, kissing for each other, not for the stupid fucking guy from Will’s art class and not for anyone else. Lucas is kissing Will for Will and also a little bit for himself and it sure feels like Will is doing the same.

His hands are warm and yet they make Lucas shiver. Clearly Will took more than the kissing skills from their weird little lesson.

The kiss feels like forever, but when Will pulls away, breathless and red-faced, Lucas realizes that is was not forever. Probably barely any longer than their previous kisses.

“You okay?” Lucas asks softly. Will sighs. It’s hot against his lips.

“Mhm,” he whispers, “Just—a lot. A lot a lot. Kissing is a lot and this a lot and you’re so much, holy shit—”

Lucas frowns. His hands, previously sitting on Will’s thighs, move up to rest on the curve of his waist. His stomach is soft. 

“We can stop? Just talk and sleep and I can, um—” _I can hold you while you fall asleep and then more when you wake up._ “Yeah.”

Will shakes his head quickly. “No, no thanks, definitely don’t wanna stop. Just…”

Lucas squeezes his torso gently, and presses their foreheads together.

_Go ahead. Talk. I’m here. It’s just me. We trust each other._

Will inhales deeply and exhales slowly. _In. Out._ “I don’t wanna mess it up.”

“How so?”

Will squirms a little and looks away. “I don’t know how to _really_ kiss. I’ll fuck it up, and then you won’t wanna kiss me anymore.”

Lucas can’t help but laugh at that, because, _seriously?_ “Well, _that’s_ impossible,” _‘Cause I love you._ “You won’t fuck it up.”

Will blinks slowly, then bites his lip. The frown on his face before is slowly replaced with a smile that looks a tiny bit mischievous.

“Teach me?”

A wide, toothy smile graces Lucas’ features and he squeezes Will’s sides again. 

“How cliché,” he whispers, leaning forward so their lips are a breath apart.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Will says, smiling, and closing the gap between them.

_More than you know._


End file.
